


When The Star Turned Green

by LiterallyThePresident



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Jealousy, Kepler’s delightful way of looking at things, Possessive Behavior, hint of unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 14:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15973904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyThePresident/pseuds/LiterallyThePresident
Summary: Jacobi’s getting a little too close to Eiffel for Kepler’s comfort





	When The Star Turned Green

Jacobi and Eiffel were floating together in the comms room, heads bent together and voices a low murmur as they discussed some project. Kepler listened from a hidden spot by the doorway, eyes stormy and lips a tight line. It had been several minutes and he’d not heard a single order, a single threat, nor a single hint of fear or wariness from Eiffel. It almost sounded like they were getting along, which absolutely would not do. Jacobi really needed to be careful here. If he got too close to these people, he might not be able to do what needed to be done when the time came. And if he couldn’t do what needed to be done, then Kepler would have to do something he’d really rather not.

Jacobi laughed brightly at something Eiffel said, and Kepler paused in his stewing. It was a laugh he’d rarely heard in the seven years he’d known the man. Free and relaxed and genuinely entertained, a sound like a lark. Seven years of working together and Kepler had heard that laugh maybe twice. But Doug Eiffel knows him for a few months and he gets the privilege of hearing it? What the hell was Jacobi playing at?

Kepler wasn’t sure why he was so annoyed about this. It was only Jacobi. Only obedient Jacobi with the dexterous fingers and the laser focus and the too-soulful-for-this-line-of-work eyes. If Jacobi wanted to cozy up to the Hephaestus crew, gain their trust, make them let their guard down, then Kepler should be congratulating him on his good thinking. So there was really no need for his irrational annoyance.

The two laughed again, and Eiffel’s hand found its way innocently to Jacobi’s elbow.

 _Mine_. The hissed thought came out of no where, bringing Kepler up short. But it was true, wasn’t it? Jacobi and Maxwell were his team. His responsibility. They belonged to _him_. A little possessiveness was normal in a leadership position. It helped keep your team alive. But a traitorous part of Kepler’s mind whispered mockingly that it wasn’t that and he knew it, that he hadn’t been this angry seeing Maxwell chat happily with Hera. That part of him knew that it was an irrational, ill-advised _jealousy_ that only Daniel Fucking Jacobi ever managed to wring out of him. He’d always been particularly possessive of their resident EOD expert, that wasn’t news to him. The man needed Kepler’s leadership, his direction. And a part of him liked the way Jacobi looked at him like he hung the moon. Jacobi needed him, and he was damn good at his job, and so Kepler kept him around. Symbiosis.

But somewhere along he line, he’d made a mistake. He hadn’t paid any mind to his own emotions. He was stupid, he didn’t monitor them, keep an eye on them, keep them in check. He hadn’t realized how bad he’d let it get until a mission in New York a while back. Everything had gone wrong an hour in, and he’d been forced to grab Jacobi and abandon the mission. The first indication of his compromised state was when the alarms had gone off, and Kepler had shoved them both into a closet to hide from guards. He’d barely been able to focus with Jacobi’s body pressed flush against him, with his breath warming his neck and his cinnamon and gun smoke scent filling his nose, but he’d chalked it up to adrenaline. The second indication was when he’d gotten ahold of himself and let them out, Jacobi had gone and gotten himself shot protecting him.

Kepler remembered that day clearly. The unfamiliar feeling of panic clouding his thoughts, the haze of red that had filled his vision as he butchered the guard responsible, the sensation of Jacobi’s blood seeping through his fingers, the dead weight of him as Kepler hauled him out of there like the devil himself was on his heels. It had been the first time in their partnership that he’d truly been faced with the prospect of losing Jacobi. And Kepler had handled it like he handled everything else: repress and compartmentalize. Bandage the wounds and move on. Never speak of it, never think of it, never so much as hint to Jacobi that he was anything more than a teammate to him.

And now it seemed Jacobi had tired of waiting for him, and was seeking emotional fulfillment elsewhere. Now he was just seeking affection from anyone, wasn’t he? Even incompetent communications officers who couldn’t go one sentence without a pop culture reference, even _criminals_ who routinely put people’s lives in jeopardy through sheer idiocy. Now he was chuckling and ruffling Doug Eiffel’s hair, not even _condescendingly_ , like it was nothing. Like they were _friends_. It set Kepler’s blood boiling. What the hell was he playing at? Was he that pathetically desperate for the love Kepler always denied him that he’d take it even from Doug _fucking_ Eiffel? Was he that easily drawn in by a shitty sense of humor and a pair of pretty eyes? Unbelievable.

Jacobi was toeing a dangerous line here. He belonged to _Kepler_ , no matter what these losers were trying to make him think. Jacobi would need some gentle reminding about where exactly they all stood. As Kepler watched, Eiffel made a joke and clapped Jacobi on the back, squeezing his shoulder. And Jacobi didn’t give any indication at all that it was unwelcome. If anything, that stupid smile got bigger.

Kepler decided then and there that Doug Eiffel died first.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what I’m listening to?


End file.
